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Showing posts from November, 2019

Foley Take Exception to the New Way a Dog's Age is Calculated

 I read another study by people who know nothing about dogs but pretend they are experts. This one had the most scurrilous claims ever made against nature's most perfect creature.  The report pontificates that dog's age much faster than people realize. In fact, when dogs turn two, they are actually 40 in human years. I know why these researchers have advanced this convoluted argument.  Humans have a completely different view of aging than dogs do. We don't pay any attention to the calendar.  Worrying about time passing is wasting time, and we don't have time for that. Humans mark off each day like they are completing a prison sentence.  Dogs only measure time by meals. We consider the space between eating as an entire day, especially since we spend so much time sleeping.  When we bother our parents to feed us, we are telling them the alarm didn't go off, and they are LATE. We are worried about their missing work or an appointment.  It's not that we are jus

Pocket Recounts Her Parents' Thanksgiving from Long Ago

Happy Thanksgiving, my friends.  This is my lucky thirteenth turkey day, and with each one, I find more reasons to be thankful. When I was a young pup, Foley and I hosted Thanksgiving at our house.  It was filled with family and the best of all babies. Oh, how Foley and I loved babies!   They are humans in the purest form. Everything we do delights them. Their small, soft hands are perfect for petting.  And, they always dropped delicious food on the floor, which we happily scoffed up.   When mommy had her knee surgeries, the grown children decided to rotate the holidays at their houses.  That was the death knell for the big family get-together. Once Thanksgiving is held at the kids’ homes, they began to wonder why they had to invite their brothers, sisters, and their obnoxious kids.  Gradually the holiday becomes just the immediate family until the mom can’t cook any longer, and then it gets split up between their children’s houses, and the pattern begins again. Years after the

Wordless Wednesday

Beat This Caption

Oh no!  I just went Brexit on my pillow

Monday Question

What are your chances of getting some turkey Thanksgiving? POCKET:  We might get some deli turkey but my parents are going to my skin sister's so no food on the floor

Bentley Sir Licks a Lot Comes to Rainbow Bridge

Earlier this month, a little white fuzzball full of kisses came bounding across Rainbow Bridge with tears in his eyes.  His name is Bently, but to his family, he is Sir Licks A Lot. The Bridge had finally claimed him after years of trying. By the time Bently surrendered to the dark angels, his body was spent.  He had given every ounce of his devotion. His parents had seen him rally remarkably from the brink of passing before, but we only can recover so many times before the deficit becomes too steep to mount.   When he was eight years old, Bentley suffered paralysis.  His doctor told his mom there was no hope. The vet suggested that Bently be sent to the Bridge.  When his mom looked at her dear boy, she saw a dog that was not ready to give up. She took Bently home and became his physical therapist.  Within six months, through determination and love, Bently was running again. Bently would become paralyzed when his body failed again.  Once more, love and determination would triu

Foley, Conan, and Canine Seal Heroes

As you are well aware, all dogs are heroes, and we save lives. Occasionally, a dogs’ bravery will be publicized, and the country revels in their achievement.  That happened in October when a dog helped the military capture one of the world’s most wanted terrorists, Abi Bakr al Baghdadi, known to his Isis friends as Kirk,  and throughout Syria as the host of the game show: The Qirsh is s_ˈɪ_ɹ_ɪ__ə.   I am not a political dog.  Politics is frowned upon at the Bridge.  It is the hobgoblin of mortal minds, and we angels don't need it.  We are free, as long as we don't break the Big Guy's commandments. If we do, we are turned into minions and forced to do manual labor until we are back to thinking correctly.  The United States is still months away from establishing that type of order.  I do take exception to the President, stating that Baghdadi died like a dog.  I had an image of US special forces entering Baghdadi's home and ordering him to stand, only to find he was

The Cats Attack Again

I am old enough to remember when Mommy and Daddy used to both get up at 5:30.  They had little time for Foley or me as they prepared for work. After we were fed, I was put in my crate and Foley on her red blanket, where we patiently waited for eight hours until Mommy got home.   When we heard the door open and smelled her, I barked my head off until I was let out of the crate. Foley laid on her blanket, not looking at Mommy until she was ready. Foley was the coolest.  In 2011 Mommy retired, and a short time later, Daddy stopped working full time.  We rarely got up early again, but when we did, we knew it was trouble. Doctors always do bad things to people right after breakfast.  They like to be done with their torture before lunch. Last Wednesday, we were up early.  I knew something was wrong when Mommy didn’t linger under the covers with River as I slowly, and thoroughly, did my outside business.  She showered quickly and without getting her hair wet. My parents skipped breakfast

Wordless Wednesday

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I'm sorry, I didn't see the sign.  I thought we could seat ourselves.

Monday Question

When was the last time you had an accident in the house? Pocket:  We usually go out but we also have pee pads.  Sometimes I miss the pad, and sometimes I don't make it.  It probably has been a month.  River rarely pees inside, even with friends, but a few weeks ago muy parents had friends over, and River was in the living room.  She could not get anyone's attention and would have had to cross through the kitchen to reach the pads, so she went in the living room.  She was very sorry but forgiven.  

Sweet Pea the Dog who Went From the Dump to Super Stardom

Four years ago, I got a desperate prayer request from a young pit bull. The pretty girl was begging to live. I was able to locate her by using the Global Prayer Search. I was stunned by what I found.  The unfortunate pittie had deep wounds on her head and legs. She could barely stay conscious long enough to pray.     She told me that, since birth, she had been used as a bait dog, until she was too severely injured to continue, and the monsters who owned her left her to die in a dump in Camden New Jersey.   I looked at her injuries and accessed her memories. Her life had been hell. I suggested that passing to the Bridge might be the better course for her.  She had suffered too much, and a heavenly reward awaited her. But, she begged me for one more chance at life.  She was put on the Earth to love a human, and, despite the despicable way she had been treated, she was sure if, given the opportunity, she could delight a family. I told her I would do what I could. Still, the injuries

The First Graduate of Foley U Gets a Job at a State's Attorney's Office

Last year, when I started my university, Foley U, everyone scoffed. The idea of a college that taught the law was just for dogs and cats, and could only be accessed while dreaming, was called foolish. I was told that even if dogs applied to attend when they got their degrees, they would never get jobs because law firms did not hire dogs.   But I have always been a little pup with dreams big. More than two dozen students enrolled at my University.  While I never promised them a job after graduation, they were thrilled to study law. They, like me, were excited about being a dog attorney and representing our fellow canines   When the students graduated, they opened private practices to great success. But we all shared the same dream. Every member of the Fighting  Monsters from Foley U yearned to be part of a human law firm. For this, we were mocked. Everyone knows dogs can't work at a law firm. My best student was a chocolate lab named Hatty. During mock dog court, he left the

River Becomes a Common Night Walker

The most horrific day of the year has passed, but the after-effects will last until next spring.  The day is like a blizzard that arrives the same day every year. You know it is coming, you try to prepare for it, but it still shatters your life, leaving it in tatters.  It is the 23 hour day. It is the day the Earth tips on its axis. It is the day when we are forced to eat an hour later. It makes the night come earlier. It makes humans grumble.   They call it either “return to standard time,” or “daylight savings time end.” Any day with standard and end, it is bound to suck.   Pocket and I do enjoy our daily walks. They have become more essential with my weight gain, which, I can now admit, was done for a movie role. Look for Benji Gets His Ass Kicked By a Griffon later this year.  Now that the role is over, I need some road work to lose the extra weight. Our schedule makes the time before supper optimum for walking. Mommy is not as mobile as she used to be, so she leaves the exe

Wordless Wednesday

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"What a bad day.  My parents are out, I have been waiting for them at the window, and Bruce has been on my ass all day long.

Monday Question.

Do you wear a jacket in the winter? Pocket:  We don't wear one for the cold but we wear one for the wet.  We both have plaid ones for the rain and we have blue and black parkas for the snow.

Tweedles Arrives At Rainbow Bridge

When I came to live with my parents, I had the most wonderful big sister named Blake. She was a little Shih Tzu, but she was a giant to me. Blake taught me so much about my parents and how to be a good dog.   I don't know if I would have reached the heights I have without Blake blazing a trail to me. I remember that terrible morning when Blake had her first seizure. It was like something had possessed her.  One minute I was snuggled up with my trusted big sis; the next, her body was thrashing, and she didn't know who I was. Even before I knew a seizure was a symptom of the disease that would send her to the Bridge, I hated it. It took a long time for my parents to determine what caused her seizures. When they finally did, remember the sad word inoperable was used. A short time after that, Blake went to the Bridge, and I was thrust into the role of the lead dog. This year my sweet friend from the Blogger world, Tweedles, an adorable 13-year-old pug, began to

Foley Reports About the First Time Dog and Men Came Together

There have been two constants since man and dog first bonded. One is for the love they share.  The other is poop. Poop first brought man and dog together.  The initial moment that a man partnered with a dog was in the Neanderthal age.  Things were not very hygienic then. If a man had to poop, he did. This particular man, Robert, lived next door to someone who became angry when Robert pooped on his lawn.  "Wild animals poop on your lawn all the time," Robert said, defending himself. "It's different when it's a wild animal," the neighbor said. "They don't know better." Robert thought this was rather discriminatory.  He went to see Phil, his Neanderthal lawyer. Robert wanted Phil to file a rock, stating that the freedom to poop was his birthright.  Philip rejected his request. First, because filling meant drawing the action on a rock, then throwing it at the defendant's head. If you hit the defendant in the head, you won.  If you mis

Pocket Gets Stuck Between a Buggy and a Hard Place

Last Wednesday, something very frightening happened to me, and it was because my parents can’t change a lightbulb.  Several years ago, my parents had a ceiling light installed over their chairs in the living room because people of a certain age need a lot of light.  It was pretty. It was comprised of three small lights, snuggly placed in three globes. It kept our home a clean and well-lit place. Eventually, one of the tiny light bulbs blew.  Daddy got out the step ladder and climbed up to change it.  He figured it would be easier if he removed the globe then to try and get his fingers in the small place between it and the bulb.  He tried unscrewing the globe with no luck. He then gave it a good Yankee tug. The globe, along with the fixture that held the globe in place, came down. A small ring, a vital part of the assembly, had broken.  My parents had to order and new one and wait three weeks for the part to arrive.  When it arrived, Daddy had to put the part inside the smallest

Wordless Wednesday

Beat This Caption

"Excuse me, coach.  What were you saying about me not being good enough to make the team?"

Monday Question

What breeds of dogs or cats have your Mommy and Daddy owned?   Pocket:  Mommy and Daddy together have lived with a Shih Tzu, Maltese, Papillon, Yorkie-Poo, Brussels Griffon and a Siamese.

Geordie Comes to Rainbow Bridge

There was a lot of rain that fell over the east coast in the days before Halloween.  Meteorologists used several maps, computer modules, and Doppler radar to explain this phenomenon.  I knew the real reason. My exceptional friend Geordie crossed Rainbow Bridge this week, and there were so many tear clouds formed by those who wept over his passing that the clouds got backed up, and the rain fell on the mortal side too. Geordie's passing was as exceptional as his life.  He had been diagnosed with cancer two years ago and given a short amount of time before he was scheduled to leave for the immortal side.  His mom was told to take him home and make him comfortable.   Geordie’s momma Leslie is a painter who has created stunning portraits of family dogs.  Momma Leslie knows our souls, which is why she creates such lovely paintings. Geordie inspired her to draw him as he encountered the world, then created books from them, the first one being A Good Mom is a Tired Mom .  After his

A Final Visit

Sometimes an angel’s duties are sad; other times, they are happy, and sometimes they are both.  I got a prayer request this week that moved me so much I had to do everything I could to answer it in the affirmative.  The prayer came from a man named John Vincent. He is a 69-year-old Vietnam veteran who had recently gone into hospice care.  When he did, he was forced to part with Patch, his six-year-old terrier mix.    I was first made aware of this situation by Patch, himself.  The poor baby knew his dad was getting sick, and like all dogs, he believed what he needed the most was Patch taking care of him.  Sadly, the doctors felt otherwise. With no family to provide for Mr. Vincent, he had to enter hospice care, and poor Patch went into a shelter.  That is why Patch contacted me. He desperately wanted to go back home. I had to break the sad news to Patch that his prayer could not be granted.  I promised I would do everything in my power to find him a new home. But, we both knew it